Table of Contents
Title Page
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Chapter Thirty
Chapter Thirty-One
Chapter Thirty-Two
Chapter Thirty-Three
Chapter Thirty-Four
Chapter Thirty-Five
Chapter Thirty-Six
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Author's Note
Contents
Title Page
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Chapter Thirty
Chapter Thirty-One
Chapter Thirty-Two
Chapter Thirty-Three
Chapter Thirty-Four
Chapter Thirty-Five
Chapter Thirty-Six
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Author's Note
Give and Take
Ties that Bind, Book One
By Claire Cullen
Copyright © 2017 by Claire Cullen
All Rights Reserved
Cover Designed by Silver Heart Publishing
Chapter One
Drew sat on the bus, his arms wrapped tightly around the backpack on his lap. At first, he’d stayed awake, counting the distance they’d traveled, each handful of miles making him feel just that bit safer. But it had been a long journey, the whole night passing by in the glow of highways and streetlights, and he’d nodded off once or twice. Each time, he’d woken with a jerk, heart racing, adrenaline spiking, only to relax when he remembered where he was, out of Russell’s long reach.
The third time he woke, the man sitting next to him shot him a look and switched seats, ignoring his muttered apology. After that, he stayed awake and watched the sunrise as they entered the city. A new day, a new city, a new life. Where had he heard all that before?
The bus finally pulled into its destination, coming to a slow stop at the station. Passengers began clambering off, grabbing bags, and shuffling down the aisle. He waited until the bus was almost empty before following suit. Passing through the door caused a sudden spike in anxiety. What if Russell had found out that he was running, what if he was waiting for him? Taking a deep breath, he forced himself across the threshold, earning an odd look from the driver when he practically threw himself out the door, feet smacking onto the ground below.
Despite his fears, no one waited for him, the bus station emptying quickly of the new arrivals. There was nothing to do but follow.
Exiting the station, he found himself blinking in the early morning sunlight. He scrabbled around in the pocket of his jeans, pulling out a piece of paper, the words long since memorized, and double-checked the address scrawled there. Glancing left and right, he took off in what he hoped was the right direction.
It was a meandering journey with diversions both intentional and unnecessary. Given that he’d dumped his cell phone and anything with an internet connection before he’d left, he stopped to pick up a new phone, opting for a basic prepaid model that didn’t cost much but wouldn’t be too easy to track. He passed cafes and food stalls, ignoring them in favor of the food he’d packed in his backpack. He needed to make what little cash he had stretch for as long as possible, until he got set up, whatever that meant.
Getting to the address proved trickier than he’d imagined, necessitating three stops to get directions and two turnabouts. It was such a contrast to home where he could have navigated his way around blindfolded. Here, even his eyes didn’t seem to be much use.
All the walking gave him time for thinking. Unwelcome time, as his brother’s voice rang in his ear. It made him feel like he was sixteen again, messing up like always, as Logan shook his head and threw about words like disappointed and ashamed. The look on his face had been almost the same, unsurprised but tired. He’d come through for him though, the address in Drew’s pocket a sign that he still cared.
It was early afternoon by the time he reached the apartment building. He stood outside peering upward. It was more upmarket than his brother had led him to expect. Logan’s ex-army buddy must have done well for himself or was more careful with his money than most young men Drew knew.
He buzzed the apartment, twice, but there was no answer. Samuel was probably still at work. Or asleep. Hadn’t Logan said he was working nights this week? Waiting until someone came out, he caught the door before it closed, slipped inside, and climbed the stairs to the third floor.
He knocked on the door, number eleven, and wasn't surprised when there was no answer. His hand was reaching for his phone before he caught himself, remembering that he didn’t have Samuel’s number and there was no chance he’d get Logan on the phone at that hour. How much were calls to Afghanistan from a cell, anyway? Probably enough to drain his credit within minutes.
As he was leaning against the wall, his backpack at his feet, trying to decide what to do next, the door across the corridor opened, number nine, and an old woman peered out. Her expression was suspicious, enough for him to wonder if she’d already called the cops. Just the start he needed to his new life.
“Can I help you?” she asked.
He straightened up, brushing his hands down his shirt, and hoping he looked more presentable than he felt after two full days of travel.
“Maybe, I’m looking for Samuel Brooks.” He gestured to the closed apartment door beside him as he spoke.
“Do you have ID?” she asked.
It was an odd question, but he reached into his pocket for his wallet and fished out his driver's license.
“I’m Andrew Sheppard, Drew.”
She examined the license closely. “I expected as much. Samuel told me you were arriving today. He was called in to work an extra shift so he left a key with me. Stay here and I’ll get it for you.”
“Thank you, ma’am,” he replied, feeling relief that he wasn’t going to have to spend the rest of day wandering the streets. Already his feet ached and his head w
as fuzzy from lack of sleep.
“It’s Sheila. Sheila Jeffreys.”
“Thanks, Sheila,” he called after her as she disappeared inside.
She returned with an envelope with his name on it.
“Samuel is a quiet young man,” she said. “He keeps to himself. Never any trouble. I hope that won’t change.”
“No, ma’am. I mean, Sheila. I’m not the loud sort.” Certainly not when his new life’s mission was to keep under the radar. And Russell’s radar stretched far and wide.
“Good. I’m here most days, if you ever need anything. Except Fridays, I visit my sister Aggie at the nursing home on Fridays.”
“Thanks again, Sheila. I’ll get out of your hair.”
He heard the door close with a snick behind him as he crossed the corridor, closely followed by the rattle of a chain. Tearing open the envelope with little care, he fished out the key.
The door opened with an easy turn of the key in the lock and he pushed inside. His first impression of the apartment was a neat and orderly space, exactly what he’d have expected from a soldier. Ex-soldier he reminded himself. Samuel was some sort of police officer now, from what little Logan had told him.
Most of the apartment was open plan; a small kitchen, dining, and living area, neatly if sparsely furnished and immaculately clean. As he looked around, he had the sense that he was intruding, invading Samuel’s privacy. But his so far unseen roommate had been conscientious. The door to the bathroom and an empty bedroom he guessed would be his were ajar. By process of elimination, the only closed door must have been Samuel’s bedroom.
Despite the early hour, the sight of the bed reminded him of how little sleep he’d had the previous few days. There were fresh sheets stacked neatly at the end of the bed so it was the work of mere moments to make it.
He hesitated to get in though, eyeing his body covered in two days’ worth of grime and sweat. There were clean towels on top of his dresser so the decision to shower was easy.
It felt good to wash the dirt off, and clean his lank hair, though it only made the bruises stand out more starkly against his pale skin. He spent a few minutes looking them over in the mirror, a temporary reminder of the mess he’d gotten himself into.
Drying off, he did his best to return the bathroom to its previous pristine state before going to his room and climbing straight under the clean sheets. He was asleep in moments.
Sometime later, he woke from a dream, his heart pounding, his mouth dry. Getting out of bed, he padded out to the kitchen for a glass of water. A sound at the door had him jump, spilling water down his T-shirt and across his hand. The door opened as he turned, a man stepping inside with a gym bag slung over his shoulder.
His eyes narrowed in on Drew immediately. The thing that didn’t belong. Samuel paused and Drew felt like he should say something, but couldn’t quite get out the words. Or any words for that matter. He should have known that Logan’s ex-army friend would look like that, all easy strength and the kind of physical presence Drew had always envied. Not to mention those deep brown eyes whose gaze he could get lost in. He swallowed hard and tore his eyes away, feeling a blush spread across his cheeks, the heat a contrast to the cool water dripping from his hand.
“You got in okay then.”
He was relieved and grateful when the other man broke the silence.
“Yeah, thanks. Sheila gave me the key.” There. Words. Tongue-tied? Who, him? Never.
“Good. Look, I’m doing this as a favor to Logan, that’s all. I work long shifts, sometimes nights, sometimes doubles. I need my peace and quiet, and I like things to be kept neat. Any problem with that?”
As he spoke, Samuel pulled off his jacket and hung it up next to the door. The T-shirt he wore did nothing to disguise his muscles and Drew had to swallow again to get out a reply.
“No, no problem. You won’t know I’m here.” There was no way he could afford to lose this room, to mess this up. He didn’t have anywhere else to go.
“Great. Goodnight,” Samuel said, disappearing into his room and shutting the door. Drew gave himself a minute, leaning back against the counter, feeling emotions wash over him in waves, fear blotting out anything else. He got a hold of himself, turning to the practical, washing his glass and placing it back in the cupboard before heading to bed.
Chapter Two
Sam was pulling his jacket from his locker when Thomas, their team leader, clapped him on the shoulder. “You doing alright Sam? You’re looking a little worse for wear.”
He shook his head, giving Tom a tense smile. “Nothing a good night’s sleep wouldn’t fix.”
“Yeah,” the older man agreed, propping himself up against the lockers with one shoulder. “Two double shifts in four days, we’re not getting a lot of downtime.”
“But we are winning the war on drugs,” Gary joked from behind them. “One mediocre dealer at a time.”
“Nah, they’re like cockroaches,” Sam threw back. “For every one we take out, a dozen take their place.”
“Let’s not talk about cockroaches,” Warren, their tech specialist, chimed in. “Living with them for all those weeks last year was bad enough. I didn’t get a night’s sleep.”
“Speaking of a night’s sleep, what say we postpone going home and go out and get a drink. We’re off for the weekend, let’s let off a bit of steam.” Tom’s expression was earnest and Sam knew he was right. They were tired out and wound up. A bit of team bonding to let off some steam was exactly what they needed. But it had been three days with zero contact from Matt.
As if reading his mind, his phone rang. Not Matt, but Matt’s mom. Maybe she’d heard from him and he was worrying for nothing?
He stepped toward the bathroom to take the call, knowing he’d get more privacy there than he would in the locker room.
“Hello.”
“Sam, I’m so relieved you answered. Have you spoken to Matt at all? He won’t answer my calls or messages. His sister’s away, or I’d send her over to his apartment—”
He stopped her, keeping his voice even to hide his worry. “I haven’t heard from him in a day or two but I was going to call over after work. I’ll let you know how he is once I’ve spoken with him.”
“Thank you, Sam. You’re such a good friend to him.”
Her relief was clear, but it felt like a heavy burden on his shoulders. What if Matt wasn’t okay? What would he tell her then?
When he went back into the locker room, the others were waiting for him.
“Come on, Sam. Drinks? Gary’s driving,” Warren said.
They were looking at him expectantly. “Maybe next time, guys. I have plans.”
A range of emotions crossed their faces. Disappointment on Warren’s, puzzlement on Gary’s, unhappiness on Tom’s. Tom was the one always preaching about the importance of team bonding. Sam never quite lived up to his expectations. Part of that was self-preservation. He was still the new guy, even after seven months. And the old army hang-up about coming out was ever-present. He didn’t really think it would matter, didn’t think they would care, but he wasn’t sure it was worth the risk. And now, with Matt, he had responsibilities elsewhere.
Tom opened his mouth and Sam braced himself for a challenge or a cutting remark.
“Next time,” was all the team leader said, but he scrutinized Sam, as if to glean some clue as to what was going on. He could just ask, but Sam knew he wouldn’t, not unless it started to bleed over into work. And Sam would never let that happen.
Bang. Bang. Bang. “Come on, Matt. If you don’t answer this door, I’m going to have to get it open, one way or another.”
He’d been outside for almost ten minutes, knocking and calling, with no sound from inside the apartment. He was a split second away from putting his shoulder to the door when he heard movement inside.
The lock turned and the door swung inward, a rumpled Matt peering blearily at him.
“Sam, what the hell?”
Before Matt could react,
he pushed past him into the apartment, taking in the closed curtains despite the daylight outside, the disarray of the room, and the smell of alcohol.
“Three days, Matt. You haven’t taken any calls or answered any messages. Your mom is worried sick.”
He turned back and Matt shut the door, leaning heavily against it as Sam’s words washed over him. “You spoke to my mom?”
“She called me. Like I said, she was worried.”
With a muttered grumble, Matt stumbled back into the room towards the couch, sinking into it. “I’m fine, I’ve just been… busy.”
“Oh yeah?” Sam replied, taking a seat opposite him. “Doing what?”
He kept his voice even, knowing Matt would only meet fire with fire. He needed to calm things down, not ignite them.
“Just… stuff,” he said, scrubbing a hand across his face. He had what Sam guessed was about a week’s worth of beard growth. It made him itchy just looking at it.
“Have you picked up any shifts?” Matt had been doing relief work in some of the local emergency departments, covering holidays and sick leave.
“No, not… I did a shift in Mercy’s the week before last. It was rough.”
Before, rough would have been nothing to Matt, it was practically his middle name. As an army medic, he’d seen just about all there was to see. Until he saw too much, one last thing that pushed him over the edge and set him on this slow spiral into oblivion.
“Have you been drinking today?” he asked cautiously, not knowing what kind of response he’d provoke. The alcohol wasn’t Matt’s problem, it was just helping him reach rock-bottom faster while masking the pain that came with the fall.
“Not today. Last night. And the weekend. It helps sometimes when the nightmares get too much.”
“How’s it going with that counselor at the VA?”
Matt let his hands fall and Sam got a good look at his face for the first time. His cheeks were drawn, his eyes red. He’d lost more weight.
“It’s not. This isn’t… I don’t want to talk, Sam, what the fuck is talking going to do?”
Leaning forward, he tried to get Matt to meet his eyes.
Give and Take (Ties That Bind Book 1) Page 1
